cancer

WHO MADE THIS MOUTH?

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Reflections on Being a Dull-of-Speech Preacher

Some anniversaries on the calendar mark more significant milestones than others. Ever since 2005, March 8 reminds me how dramatically and increasingly challenging my pastoral vocation became from that day on. It took five hours on the table that Tuesday for a surgeon to excise an egg-sized cancerous tumor along with one-third of my tongue. Never again would I step into a pulpit without acknowledging that an already tough task had become even harder because of the new speech impairments.

Also vivid in my memory that year is the Sunday just five days after my surgery. Surprisingly, I felt well enough to attend church. Nancy, my late wife, and I occupied the front row as usual. A fellow elder, slated to give the pastoral prayer that day, sat supportively beside me. As the time approached in the service for that prayer, I felt strongly impressed that the Lord actually wanted me to do it. Much to my surprise and to the congregation’s, there I, their teaching pastor, stood before them to pray, with 33% less of a tongue and sporting a hockey-stick shaped, still-sutured scar running from my right ear to my Adam’s apple.

I don’t remember what I prayed. But I do recall exactly how I started. I slowly read this text from Exodus 4:10-12:

10 But Moses said to the Lord, “Oh, my Lord, I am not eloquent, either in the past or since you have spoken to your servant, but I am slow of speech and of tongue.” 11 Then the Lord said to him, “Who has made man’s mouth? Who makes him mute, or deaf, or seeing, or blind? Is it not I, the Lord? 12 Now therefore go, and I will be with your mouth and teach you what you shall speak.”

Our guest preacher of the day, Dr. Bruce Waltke, called that extraordinary God-moment a sermon all its own. He was right. I’ve never forgotten that day, or the day of my surgery, which marked me for good ever since.

Ten years later my slow-of-speech-and-tongue mouth got even worse. Downstream effects of radiation treatment in ‘05 eventually fried my mandible requiring jaw reconstruction in 2016 (see image above). Multiple surgeries added to my frustration and difficulty with articulation throughout the last six years of my vocational ministry. Thankfully the Lord continued to help me all the way to the pastoral finish line. Retirement in 2022 brought a measure of welcomed relief from weekly pulpit demands. And yet . . . I’ve wrestled often with what usefulness in retirement looks like for me. Could I or should I still preach occasionally, as humbling as it is, or chalk it up to “that was then, this is now”? Over the last few years, I had all but given up on the prospect. After all, who wants to listen to Preacher Dull/Heavy/Slow of Speech and Tongue (literal meaning of the Hebrew kabed)? Or so I thought.

But recently the Lord has been working in some unexpected ways. Last month I found myself officiating a wedding including a personal charge to the couple. This Sunday evening I will preach my first sermon in three years at our local church. And Lord willing, this September I will bring four messages on fighting for peace and unity for a church camp in British Columbia. Go figure! The Lord seems to have more for me to do.

Whatever speech issues plagued Moses enough for him to balk at his calling, mine make me sympathetic to his reluctance. I’m so thankful this exchange between him and the Lord made it into the biblical record. It serves as a continual encouragement in my retirement to welcome any further calling he may require of me, no matter how surprising.

Who has made this man’s mouth? Is it not the Lord? It is. How will this man speak no matter however, wherever called upon to do so? Same answer as always. Now therefore go, and I will be with your mouth and teach you what you shall speak.

I believe Lord, help my unbelief.

TSUNAMIS, CANCER, & THE SHEPHERD’S EXTRAORDINARY CARE

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One of the More Memorable Sermons I’ve Ever Preached–I Think


One gives a lot of sermons over the course of thirty-six years in pastoral ministry. I lost count eons ago.

Most exist to this day in manuscript form tucked away in digital archives. Far fewer have survived still in audio files accessible for download listening. That’s what happens when you’ve recorded messages to cassette tape, then on to CDs, and finally joined the internet streaming revolution.

The cassettes got tossed long ago. Some of the files from my last ministry assignment in Idaho have a home on my SoundCloud account. Thanks to a tech-savvy brother and servant-friend of mine, the collection of some fifty CDs I managed to save covering 2002 to 2005 at Orlando Grace Church now exists at Sermons of Pastor Curt Heffelfinger. Messages preached from 2015 to 2018 toward the close of my Orlando ministry are on file at the Orlando Grace SoundCloud site.

I felt led to devote today’s post to sharing this bit of personal news from my past for a particular reason. At least one of those messages sticks in my recollection of past sermons as particularly memorable. I preached it on June 3, 2005. That weekend our congregation struggled with bad news on two distressing fronts. One concerned the catastrophic Indonesian tsunami that swept away some 230,000 lives. The second hit much closer to home. Pastor Curt has tongue cancer.

I reasoned that our people needed from me as their undershepherd to hear some good news. I opted to preach from Psalm 23 about the Good Shepherd’s extraordinary care in crises like natural disasters and cancer diagnoses. I recently listened to the audio of this sermon I gave over twenty years ago. I was struck how everything I proclaimed from the text that day has proven true since then in my life and ministry and into retirement.

Perhaps you may be battling to trust the Lord in the midst of some distressing news or know someone who is. If so, I offer this word to encourage and bolster a faith that overcomes fear and worry.

By the way, for those who listen knowing only my speech troubles post-cancer treatment, you may find it difficult to believe your ears. Despite the presence of a tumor the size of a large egg in my mouth, I still had my entire tongue and most of my teeth. You will find the audio an easier listening experience!

If you do happen to listen to Tsunamis, Cancer, & the Shepherd’s Extraordinary Care, I’d welcome your comments below as to how the Lord may have helped you as a result. FYI, scroll down to the fourth saved file on the opening page to find the file.

SAD NEWS ABOUT MY NANCY

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The Latest on Her Battle with Cancer

Yesterday, May 27, we admitted my bride to the hospital. Over the last week her physical distress rose alarmingly fast. Thankfully doctors quickly stabilized things. She is much more comfortable today.

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This morning we learned the cause for her symptoms. The spread of disease now  compromises some major organs. The weakness of her condition furthermore prohibits the possibility of any standard of care chemotherapy treatment.

Nan grasps the gravity of the situation. She has fought her fight with the courage of her personal convictions. She has done so without complaint. The joy of the Lord has been her strength and remains so (Neh. 8:10). She does not despair knowing what pleasures await at her Savior’s right hand (Psalm 16:11).

A hospice rep will meet with us tomorrow. Joel, our son, arrives tonight. He plans to join us for that appointment with the nurse. As soon as arrangements can be made, likely no more than a day or two, we will move Nancy to the comfort of our home.

Words cannot convey my unique privilege to serve both as Nan’s husband and pastor. We talked and wept together over the news earlier today. I reminded her (and myself) that God regards as “precious”–the Hebrew means significant, weighty, no small thing in His sight–the death of His saints (Psalm 116:15). Her times are in His hands. He will walk with her through the valley of the shadow; she fears no evil (Psalm 23:4).

Lately I’ve spent a fair amount of time meditating on Phil. 4:11-13. Paul writes from prison:

11 Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. 12 I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. 13 I can do all things through him who strengthens me.

This turn of events brings me low–lower than my own cancer, a broken jaw, even the loss of our beloved Joshua, or any other hard providence we have faced. My schooling in the secret of contentment faces its biggest challenge. Though I expect the degree of difficulty to grow exponentially in the days ahead, I hope to bank everything on the massive promise of v. 13–I can do all things through him who strengthens me.

Please pray for Nan’s comfort and care during this time. I want to love and serve her well at every turn. She’s pretty weak. I’m not certain at what point, if at all, she will desire visitors. We will just have to see how she does once we get her home. Many thanks.

Sorrowful, yet always rejoicing (2 Cor. 6:10), we press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus (Phil. 3:14).

Another Personal Update

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More Health News from the House of Heff

Many of our OGC folks and others probably wonder how our busy medical Monday went this week. Here’s the latest:

HealthCare News,Newspaper with white background

First, on my front, Monday proved a total washout. Somehow the wrong test got ordered. Back to the drawing board with my PCP. In other words, still waiting on that swallow study I need.

Now, on Nancy’s front, some significant progress. She underwent an outpatient procedure to remove two liters plus of fluid from her body–ostensibly not that uncommon with ovarian cancer.

BELIEVE IT OR NOT WE FINALLY GOT THE BIOPSY RESULTS! Relatively good news. The enlarged node the surgeon took over six weeks ago tested out as the same ovarian cancer as elsewhere in her body, not some other form of the stupid disease.

Unfortunately the node didn’t meet the size specs necessary upon which to grow a culture. So we still don’t know what chemo drug would best target her cancer, should she choose that route of last resort.

Other than a bit tired and sore from lying in the same position for the procedure, she feels much relief after the siphoning off of all that fluid. A sample of the same now gets sent to the company for testing to determine the best drug for her use. We should hear in two or so weeks.

Yeah, sure.

Forgive my cynicism and thanks for those continued prayers!

A PERSONAL UPDATE

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A dear self-professed atheist friend of mine follows my blog. This both humbles and encourages me. But he did recently complain about the content. “Too much religion. Not enough about you.” Just like my buddy. This post he will like, I think.

Sick Leave

I had to shut down the blog for a couple of weeks recently due to ongoing treatment during my current medical absence. Following jaw surgery six weeks ago my surgeon ordered ten hyperbaric dives to aid in my recovery. They completely wiped me out. Productivity of any kind flew out the window from day one. Fortunately I’ve left those in the rear view mirror. I am actually starting to feel human again.

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Before I write anything more about me, let me update on the Queen of the Manor, Miss Nancy. Honestly, we don’t have a great deal to report about her cancer battle. She continues diligent treatment with her latest alternative protocol.

She remains optimistic in every way. She has no pain or symptoms. Still no word on the results of her lymph node pathology. We may wait as many as two more weeks for those. Sigh.

Needless to say we pray a lot through this journey. Thanks to so many of you who join us in petitioning the Father in Jesus’ name for her complete healing.

robojaw

Now back to the less interesting part of this post. How do you like my new look? Yep, allow me to introduce you up close and personal to “robojaw.” This most recent scan shows my titanium implant.

Note the span. It runs from the socket by my ear all the way past the midline point of my chin. Just above the “chain” shows my remaining live bone in the mandible. Noticeable by their absence? All my teeth in that quadrant. Needless to say the left side does all the chewing work these days. I’m wondering if my dental hygienist will discount me 25% now at teeth cleaning time.

I still have some swelling. My surgeon, whom I saw recently in Miami, refers to these weeks as “the accommodation” phase of my healing. But everything looks good. I can eat anything I find tolerable. Some speech and swallowing therapy lies ahead as soon as we can arrange it, but things overall improve daily.

office

Thankfully, this week I’ve returned to the office for a good part of each day. Prime time pulpit work will have to wait a bit longer, but writing and administration–no problem. Seems I can manage the occasional appointment as well. Sure beats breathing 100% O2 at a simulated 45 feet below sea level in a claustrophobic chamber.

Our elders huddle up in a couple of weeks. At that meeting I expect we will discuss my progress and what steps might lie ahead for a more complete pastoral reentry. In the meantime, I praise God for His kindness in sustaining me through this marathon journey. Go ahead and say it “L.” “There you go again with that religious talk.”

I just can’t help myself.

 

THE LATEST ON NANCY’S FIGHT WITH CANCER

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NancyA natural-friendly MD Nan now sees in Lakeland advised from the get-go that she have a full-body PET scan. I remember them well from my own cancer journey back in ’05. This will give us a baseline from which we can determine how things progress over the course of treatment.

She had the scan this past Tuesday. Her OB/GYN called us in to review the findings just this very morning. I wish I could post a more encouraging report. The results showed that my beloved lost ground over the last few months. The disease definitely has spread. Nan asked me to divulge no greater specifics than these given the sensitive nature of anyone’s health history.

What does this mean now that we’ve got a clearer picture of her condition? Beyond one move for certain, we don’t know just yet what the Lord would have her do. I respect my wife for the patient processor that she is. She will definitely talk with the Lakeland doctor today for his input. The additional move for certain involves her getting a medical oncologist on the team. Her OB/GYN enthusiastically consented to my suggestion that she refer Nan to the medical oncologist who cared for me way back when. The personal relationship we have with Dr. G will serve things well in terms of helping Nan weigh her options. Once a direction comes into focus I will post further updates as necessary.

How are we doing? Good question. I think Nancy is sorting that out for herself; I feel a bit numb at this point. Of course we continue to covet the prayers of God’s people for His purposes to carry the day at every turn on this roller coaster ride. The emotions ride higher than usual in January as it brings each year another anniversary of our son’s death back in 2014. These latest developments challenge the emotions all the more. Through it all I keep asking the Lord to anchor us in a Job-like grip on reality. Naked I came from my mother’s womb and naked shall I return (Job 1:21a). Mike Mason captured it well:

Job knew one of the great secrets of faith: the believer in God has no worldly rights. The true believer is someone who has abdicated all rights, freely accepting the status of a slave and no longer laying claim to any earthly chattel, whether it be “houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or fields” (Matt. 19:29). These are precisely the sort of things that Job has just lost, and yet his initial response to their loss is not bitter complaint, nor even mere acquiescence, but adoration (The Gospel According to Job, Crossway, 37).

Blessed be the name of the Lord.

 

Ten Years Cancer Free & Still Learning

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ten-lessons-I-learned-from-cancer-1024x338

This month marks a decade since I finished treatment for head and neck cancer. By God’s grace I remain cancer free. I have remarked to others more times than I can recount a single thought: “Cancer is a terribly effective tutor.” Here are several lessons I learned through the healing journey and continue to learn as the Lord kindly gives me length of days.

  • One, the actual moment of a believer’s death is a terribly significant matter in the heart of God (Psalm 116:15).
  • Two, illness is a form of suffering which God uses to train us in holiness (Psalm 119:71).
  • Three, God’s grace is sufficient to sustain even when healing is delayed or doesn’t come at all (2 Cor. 12:9).
  • Four, one’s capacity to comfort others in their affliction increases significantly to the degree one has experienced comfort from God in something similar (2 Cor. 1:3-5).
  • Five, dying is gain for the believer, but remaining alive to serve others is better for them in God’s providence (Phil. 1:21-26).
  • Six, God sees the tears and hears the prayers of His people when they cry out to Him (2 Kings 20:5).
  • Seven, joy doesn’t depend on circumstances but rather on the filling of the Spirit which focuses on giving thanks in all things (1 Thess. 5:16-18).
  • Eight, true worth comes from who we are in Christ, not what we can or cannot do for Him (2 Cor. 5:17).
  • Nine, prosperity and adversity both come from God and require different responses in faith (Ecc. 7:14).
  • And, ten, life is a vapor, faster than a weaver’s shuttle, requiring one to live every moment’s anticipation of the future governed by a careful “if the Lord wills” (James 4:13-15; Job 7:6).

These lessons and more I have learned and continue to learn as I live one more day cancer free to the praise of His glorious grace.

A Cancer Reality Check

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I Married Up

Yesterday Nancy and I spent the morning at the hospital. She was scheduled to have her chemo ports removed.

Early on in what normally is a fairly routine, simple procedure, the doctor discovered that the catheter of the port placed in her abdomen had gotten dislodged somehow. That meant he had to scramble to put some new equipment together so he could go laproscopic for its retrieval. That meant general vs. local anesthetic as well. No big deal except . . .

The doctor asked to see me following the procedure. While scoping for the catheter, he took a quick look around the region. He discovered visible signs of cancer on her diaphragm and at least one other place. He didn’t look everywhere, so we don’t know as of yet how pervasive a threat exists. That was not the purpose of the procedure and he was already overtime for getting to his other cases. He took pictures and even showed them to me. So apparently my previous post regarding her progress was premature.

But I was puzzled. We had acted positively of late based upon the last two blood tests checking her CA-125 levels, which proved to be well in range. I asked him about that. He used the word “meaningless” to describe that test’s significance at this point in the recurrence process. Imagine my shock. Neither Nancy or I ever got that memo. She had started to back off on aspects of her natural protocol thinking she was out of the woods. She is not. He took biopsies in several places to confirm the diagnosis, but I could read it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. He has no doubt. Cancer has grown from microscopic to visible in her body in the last eight months.

Where does that leave us? Nancy has resumed an all-in campaign for morning, noon, and night therapy of the natural kind to battle her cancer. I’m afraid that means she will not be returning anytime soon to a more mainstream pastor’s wife life or to her part-time work out of the house with her supplement customers. Her full-time job for now remains to get well.

We are investigating additional natural methods which have come to our attention. As always, we covet your prayers for healing and the grace to fight the good fight with the joy of the Lord as our strength.

Take That Ovarian Cancer

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It gives me great pleasure to rep0rt that Nancy’s latest blood test (she gets them quarterly now), came back with a CA-125 reading of 19. Above 35 is considered out of range. She remains well within acceptable results to give us confidence that healing from this stupid disease continues. She sees the doctor this week for his take on things. Thanks to all who continue to pray for us as we walk this path of faith. God is good. All the time.